The Awakening
by archonzero
Summary: BtVS Season 46 mild spoilers, Buffy and the gang face off with an Old One a la AtS S5. Fits in with BtVS established continuity.
1. Chapter 1: The Old Ones

All characters, settings, and pretty much everything but the plot belongs to Joss. If you have any questions regarding ownership of any of the intellectual property that follows, or you just have any questions about my story, e-mail me.

Chapter 1: The Old Ones

Spring, 1999

The light from the computer reflected off of Willow's face in moving shapes as she read. She lay on her bed on her stomach. Occasionally she pushed back tendrils of hair that carelessly fell across her face. She had been reading for a few hours now, ever since she got home from a long night of, well, reading in the library with the scoobies. She hadn't been researching for a while now, at least not what she had been researching earlier. She was just reading for fun now. Ever since she had discovered it, she had been interested in the world of demons and magic, but lately it had become more of an obsession. During times when she wasn't doing schoolwork or official research, or the occasional patrol, she pored over the ancient tomes in Giles' collection, or scoured the web for information. In the short time that she had been practicing Wicca she had gained power very quickly, and had no qualms about it. Maybe it was a need to gain enough power to be able to be of genuine help to Buffy in the field, or maybe it was just that she'd found something that she had a real passion for, but Arcana had become somewhat of an obsession for her lately.

She continued to read, even as her eyes grew more and more tired. She tried to press on, but eventually fell asleep in front of her computer. When she awoke the next day, she didn't recognize the text displayed on her computer. She thought that she must've been so tired that she hadn't absorbed the last things that she read before passing out. She rubbed her eyes and began reading.

"The Old Ones?" she rhetorically asked her empty room. She continued to read about the so-called "Old Ones". She discovered that they were the ancient demons, the true demons, which existed before what humanity called the beginning. Greatly powerful and constantly warring, the Old Ones had been gone from this dimension for uncountable eons.

Willow stopped reading for a second to check the time. "Shit!" she exclaimed under her breath as she turned off her computer and hastily readied herself for school. By her third period, she had completely forgotten what she had read that morning.

Sunnydale – winter, 2002

The gang sat around a few tables in the Magic Box. Tara sat reading something for a class with Willow snuggled up against her shoulder. Dawn sat next to them occasionally glancing to them from some homework she was pretending to work on. Opposite them sat Xander and Anya, who had been arguing about something earlier, but were now smiling and chatting quietly. Buffy leaned casually on the counter. She looked around emotionlessly at her friends, her family. Casually, her eyes moved to the door. The sun had just set. She could see a dark figure in a long black coat down the street. Spike. Something fluttered a little in her stomach, and she looked quickly to her friends.

"Sun's down. Duty calls."

Several lazy uh huh's came from the table. "Dawn?" Dawn looked up excitedly. "Make sure you finish your homework." Dawn sighed and sunk back into her seat. Buffy moved toward the door, and before she could reach for the door, Willow spoke up.

"Buffy? Be careful out there." Buffy looked back and gave a quick smile to her friend before exiting the building.

It had only been fifteen minutes before she found herself walking towards Spike's crypt.

"You're not even trying anymore luv" came the familiar voice from behind her. She rolled her eyes and turned around. Spike was standing a few feet away, cocky as ever.

"Trying what, exactly?"

"Trying to pretend that our meetings are coincidence." Buffy smiled for a second before she put her guard back up.

"You know I wouldn't come here if I didn't have an incredibly pressing reason." Spike walked up to her and slowly moved her up against the wall of his crypt. He pressed his body up against hers slowly and sensually. He looked into her eyes and watched her try feebly to hide her enjoyment.

"And what was that 'pressing' reason, luv?" he asked smugly. He kissed her, and she pressed back hard. He picked her up and blindly carried her through the door of his crypt, kicking the door shut behind him.

Back at the magic box Dawn had stopped pretending that she was working, and instead was playing a game with Willow. Tara continued to do what work she had, while Xander and Anya were quietly fighting again. The ring of the phone broke the silence. Everyone looked up to the phone, and then to Anya, who hadn't seemed to notice. She looked up quizzically, but no one spoke. The phone rang again.

"Oh!" she said, and to up to answer the phone. "Thank you for calling the Magic Box, where the only thing more amazing than magic are the prices!" she said enthusiastically. Dawn snorted. "Oh, hi Giles" she sighed. "Um, no, Buffy is out patrolling. Oh… Okay…" Anya hastily grabbed a pen and a loose sheet of paper. "Yeah, got it." Dawn looked at Anya, pleading for the phone. "Okay. We'll check back later. Okay. Bye." She hung up the phone.

"Hey!" Dawn looked angrily at Anya.

"Sorry Dawn. He was in a hurry." Dawn pouted. Xander looked up and noticed that Anya looked different, as if she was ill. It was the same look that she had seen in her when they spoke before the mayor's ascension. She was terrified of something.

"Guys," she started, "we have a serious problem."

More than five thousand miles away, Rupert Giles sighed as he removed his glasses and wearily wiped them with the small handkerchief he carried for just that purpose. His mind was overloaded with the meaning of what he had discovered that day. He had been spending his days pouring over the mass amounts of ancient tomes he kept in his small country residence in England. He had found something particularly troubling a few days before in Gerard's Grimoire, one of the many journals kept by wizards and prophets holding information about the past, the future, the workings of magic, and whatever else the author deemed fit to pass on. Some sought to change the outcome of things they foresaw by leaving the information for the discovery by those who would stop it, and other left instructions on how to aid such prophecies. Whatever the cause for the existence of these volumes, they were great sources of knowledge, and entirely necessary for the work of Rupert Giles.

In his translation of Gerard's Grimoire, he had come across a passage mentioning the coming of an "Old One". He had known for quite some time of the existence of these so-called Old Ones, but he had been under the impression that they had all either left this dimension or had been trapped for eternity. He thought to himself that he should know better than to believe something so stupid as "trapped for eternity". Through very rough translation he uncovered the prediction of the coming of an old one to this dimension and it's interaction with a slayer being pivotal to the future of earth. He also found a piece about the awakening of the devourer, the nickname given to the old one in question. This was the passage that had given Giles the most to worry about. It had foretold that the awakening would come in the first winter of the slayer's rebirth. At first Giles was in a fit because it seemed that the world had, did, and always would revolve around Buffy. It did seem that every prophecy he uncovered was about her, but as he thought about it, he had to admit that his slayer was anything but ordinary. She had always succeeded where others had failed. She was the first slayer to live to see a new slayer arise. She had died twice. She had been brought back most unnaturally from what even she had intended to be her eternal rest. Of course there were so many prophecies concerning her. She was unique.

And now there was an Old One, an ancient demon from before time itself who had spread chaos and destruction everywhere it went for millennia, after his slayer. It could already be there. All he could do is hope that they could figure out some way to stop it.

"I've heard of Old Ones!" Willow said enthusiastically. "They were the ancient pure demons that walked this plane before time itself!" Tara smiled at her.

"As helpful as that is, we're still in big trouble." Anya said matter-of-factly. Willow sank back into her seat. "Yes. It's old and powerful, and we don't know if we can kill it. And it's after Buffy. Now, if you have a suggestion that's worthwhile, by all means go ahead and tell everyone."

"Why don't we call—" Dawn started, but Willow cut her off.

"Ooh! I've been working on a spell to locate demons that might be able to help us find this thing!"

"And when we find it we can go and let it tear us to little pieces." Anya retorted.

"We could—" Dawn tried again.

"Is leaving town an option?" Xander asked, mock-seriously.

"I'm with you. I don't want to find out what we're up against." Anya stated, actually seriously.

"But, Buf—" Dawn was interrupted again.

"You guys, we're in a magic shop! I'm sure there's something Tara and I could do to—"

"Are you guys going to pay for what you—"

"Why don't we—"

"Ahn, honey, remember what we talked about—"

"We're getting nowhere here," Willow cut in. "I'm calling Buffy." Dawn sighed heavily, rolled her eyes as hard as she could, and sank back into her seat.

"Sorry about the lamp." Buffy said as she looked across the room at the broken pieces of a lamp that had been hastily pushed aside in a heated moment. She sighed and rolled over to face Spike who was smirking.

"No worries luv."

They laid next to each other on the floor next to Spike's bed in a mess of blankets and pillows. Buffy was staring at the ceiling, and Spike was content to just lie next to her and wonder what she was thinking. He stared at her, and smiled a real, genuine smile.

"You're amazing", he said distantly, stroking her hair gently. She looked back to him and smiled. He leaned in to kiss her and she inched forward to meet him. Too preoccupied to notice her cell phone ringing, Buffy let herself melt into Spike's embrace.

"She's not answering", Willow sighed. "Do you think…?", she looked at Tara with pleading eyes.

"No", Tara responded reassuringly. "No way."

"So what now?" Anya chimed in.

"I say we load up on swords and crossbows, and go take care of this", came Xander's pitch. "I mean, its only one demon, right? We've got two Wicca girls and we can…"

"No Xander." Anya cut in. "Its more complicated than that."

"I know. But if we can't get Buffy, we need go out and at least try to keep things under control."

"But Buffy is already out there making sure things are under control," she protested.

"She doesn't know what she's up against though."

"Neither do you!" Anya shouted. Xander was about to shout back, but stopped himself for a moment.

"Maybe not. But I do know that if Buffy runs into this thing she's going to need backup."

"He's right," Willow stated as she looked to Tara for support. She smiled shyly and nodded.

"Well, lets go!" Dawn said casually.

"This is serious Dawnie, you really shouldn't come on this one" Tara said sympathetically.

"Besides, if we take you, Buffy would kill what's left of us after the demon gets done." Xander said.

"That's not funny." Anya glared at him.

"Okay," Willow started. "We'll drop off Dawn and pick up some weapons, and head out." Everyone murmured their agreement, and they packed up their stuff and headed out.


	2. Chapter 2: The Deeper Well

Chapter 2 – The Deeper Well

England, 2002

Giles paced back and forth in his study, occasionally pausing to sigh before changing direction. He finally settled in front of his desk and picked up the book he had been studying the past few days. He stared at the text for a few moments before mumbling something and taking a seat in the large brown leather chair that sat behind his desk. Spread out in front of him were numerous dictionaries and indexes for the ancient and forgotten languages, tomes of prophecies and magical knowledge, and several of his own notebooks, all filled with his own work in uncovering the mysteries of the arcane. None of them were doing him any good at the moment though. He had mounds of information about the Old Ones, but none of it was particularly helpful. All of his sources said the same thing, that the Old Ones could not be killed and had all left this plane millennia ago. Aside from the one prophecy Giles was still having trouble translating, there was no mention of their existence in their dimension for eons.

Giles started making more notes on one of the pads in front of him. He wasn't consulting any books, just working from his own ideas regarding the prophecy. He knew he shouldn't just guess at the meanings of things, or loosely interpret phrases. Translating something like this was like doing a very complicated puzzle. Giles should have heeded that before jumping to the conclusions about it that he did.

Buffy was sleeping now, in the arms of her lover. Spike watched her breathe, something he hadn't needed to do for more than a century. Her scent filled the room, so he had been breathing for the fun of it, soaking it in. When she was with him he was content. It was her smell, and the taste of her skin, and the things she did that really drove him wild. His thoughts were briefly interrupted by the faint scent of something nearby but as quickly as it had come it had passed.

Xander, Anya, Willow, and Tara trudged through the graveyard in no particular order, each with weapons at the ready. 'At the ready' didn't necessarily mean that should the time come, the weapons would be terribly useful to the untrained group, but at least they looked ready for trouble.

"So, umm, w-whats the plan here?" Tara stuttered quietly.

"Just, uh, look for it" Xander replied, wondering if that actually WAS the best plan he could think of.

"Isn't that ALWAYS the plan with us?" Willow offered optimistically.

"Usually we wait for Buffy, and let her do all the work for us." Anya said flatly. Xander glared at Anya for a moment, but she wasn't paying attention. Anya started again. "Buffy is good at tracking, and good at killing things, and she can sense where bad things hide, and she's super strong, and-"

"ANYA!" Xander cut her off. "We all know that Buffy is great at everything. But she's not here, so we'll have to get along without her." Anya silently pouted for a moment. They started off for the next area of the cemetery.

"She's not good at EVERYTHING" Anya mumbled. "I mean, her relationships always go bad, and she dropped out of college, and she has a crappy job, and..."

Dawn sat in a ball on the couch alone in her house. The TV was on, but she hadn't been watching it. She was pouting slightly because she hadn't been allowed to go patrolling with the others, but she was somewhat used to it by now, and wasn't particularly angry about it. On the coffee table in front of her were all of the books that she could find in the house that might have some relevance to the threat at hand. The best she had come up with were vague references to the destruction and death caused by old ones. She hadn't even found a reference to any particular one at all. After an hour of fruitless searching she began to think about her situation. How safe could she possibly be alone at home? This new danger wasn't a vampire. It wouldn't wait outside for her. This thing could come inside and get her. Wouldn't she be much safer with the rest of the gang, even if they were out looking for the Old One? It didn't take Dawn more than a moment to make up her mind about what to do next. She walked up the stairs and into her room. At the foot of her bed laid the trunk where she kept her favorite weapons. She pulled out a cross and stake and tucked them into her bag. She grabbed a crossbow and gave the trigger mechanism a quick look before standing up and heading out.

Buffy was cold. She stood in a stone room dimly lit by a single torch on the wall beside her. The occasional drip from the ceiling broke the silence and she could sense that she was underground. She exhaled, and her breath created a fog in front of her face. Through the fog emerged dark eyes and a familiar snarl.

"Spike" she whispered, and swiftly hit him in the face. She leapt into action, striking with poise and ease, countering his every attack. She thought for a moment that it was like ballet; the way that she flowed from offense to defense, the grace she controlled. She felt as though she knew all of the choreography; that she already knew all of the moves they would make. But something was wrong. She felt their fight building towards something, and she could tell that he sensed it too. Her confidence faded, and though she still seemed to have the upper hand she felt that he had taken control of their dance. She swung wide with her right hand and in an instant he was behind her, pinning her arms to her sides. As she felt fangs pierce her neck a wave of what she could only describe as relaxation rolled over her. She exhaled and her senses began to dim when suddenly she felt something dark awaken inside of her.

She gasped for air and awoke in Spike's crypt. She looked over at Spike, sleeping next to her. Her open eyes fixed on his closed. After a moment her fingertips cautiously ran over the base of her neck. She watched him as she quietly rose, dressed, and crept out the door.

Spike opened his eyes a moment before the door shut. He inhaled the remnants of her scent while he wondered what she had dreamt about, and silently wished that she would someday let him in.

Xander held Anya close as they walked through the graveyard. He could smell the moisture in the air and the perfume Anya wore. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, and felt her soft skin. He wondered for a moment how after so long a life she could still feel so soft. He wondered how she could be interested in someone like him, someone who had had so much less experience in life. He looked down at her and smiled. He didn't care about why it didn't make sense for them to be together. All that mattered was that they were together, and he would do anything to keep it that way.

"I love you so much" he whispered in her ear. She smiled and leaned in close to speak softly to him. Willow was mirroring Anya's actions to Tara, who was absently smiling and watching Anya and Xander. The four of them stood each having their own private little experiences, lost in their own worlds for a moment. On the other side of a statue a vampire crouched, watching his prey. He grinned maliciously as he thought to himself about the snack he was about to have.

"Never make the mistake of thinking no one is watching" he muttered to himself as he started to move on them.

"You should take your own advice" came the feminine voice behind him. He turned to see a teenaged girl, standing triumphantly with a crossbow pointed at him.

"Slayer" he grumbled as he slowly started back away.

"Worse" she started. "Dawn." As she pulled the trigger she hoped that he caught the wordplay she had used. She felt very clever equating herself to the deadly sunrise feared by all vampirekind. She felt less clever when her crossbow bolt flew wide, catching the vampire in the shoulder. He snarled in pain and muttered something vulgar as he rushed her.

Everyone's ears perked up when they heard a familiar yelp from the other side of a large statue. Xander rounded the corner first, brandishing his stake. The vampire was already on top of Dawn, and looked back just in time to see the stake swing down on him.

Dawn watched as the dust cleared to reveal Xander's disapproving glare.

"Ugh," she said as he helped her off the ground. "I got vamp dust in my mouth."

"What are you doing here Dawnie?" Willow said, concerned.

"I—" She started. "I didn't feel safe alone at home. I mean, whatever this, this thing that's out there doesn't have to be invited in, right? Wouldn't I be safer with you guys?"

"You'd be safer inside where any vampire can't just come get you. Like that one." Xander gestured to the dust on the ground. "Dawn, if anything had happened—" he started.

"I know, I know. But now, since I'm already here and everything…"

"Stay right next to me." Xander commanded. "And if there's any sign of danger, you stay between us."

"No problemo" Dawn said happily.

"Nice crossbow" Anya commented as they started off.

Giles sped down the freeway, sifting information in his head. He had come across repeated references to a place called the "Deeper Well". When he discovered that it was located so close he had immediately set off for it. After driving for less than an hour he pulled off the road, parked, and got out of his car. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a silver arrowhead decorated with runes.

He concentrated for a moment before commanding "Deeper Well!" Giles felt a surge of energy flow through him as he brought the arrowhead to life. It glowed blue as it lifted out of his hand, spun around for a moment, and then stopped abruptly, pointing just left of where Giles faced. He snatched it out of the air and started off in the new direction.

It wasn't ten minutes when he reached his goal. A large tree stood amidst the others, dark and wide. This was the entrance, he knew, but where was the door? He ran his fingers along the rough bark and exhaled. Suddenly the tree rumbled, and an opening began to grow at the base of the trunk.

"Oh!" he exclaimed to himself. "Excellent!" He peered into the now fully formed entrance to the Deeper Well to see a robed man with long brown hair, looking very startled. "Er—my name is Rupert Gi—" Before he could finish the man had whipped out a staff, thrown it with startling accuracy, and hit the ex-watcher in the head, knocking him unconscious.

When he awoke he was sitting on the floor against a wall in a dark room. His hands were bound. He slowly regained his wits, and remembered what had happened. Footsteps came from his left and the robed man came into view.

"Who are you?" The man demanded.

"Is this the Deeper Well?"

"This is a cave. And that is the last question you shall ever ask me. Now, tell me why you have come here." Giles spent a moment examining his captor. He looked young, but had a hardened face and deep eyes that spoke of years beyond his own. He decided, not really having much choice anyway, that he would cooperate.

"My name is Rupert Giles, and I have come to find the Deeper Well."

"Why do you seek the well?"

"I believe that an Old One has returned to these lands. I have come to find out anything about it I can." He thought for a moment that he actually didn't know what he had come for, specifically. He didn't have enough information to ask the right questions. He had hoped that he would find some information that would help aid Buffy, but whom he had found didn't seem to be particularly forthcoming in that department.

"You lie. The Old Ones sleep for eternity in the Deeper Well. Please, state your true business here, or I shall force it out of you."

"Ah—" started Giles, a little flustered. "I speak the truth. In my pocket is a book that speaks of an Old One, destined to arise in this time. I must find a way to stop it before it is too late!" The robed man reached into the Englishman's coat and pulled out the weathered journal.

"This belongs to the Council of Watchers. I entrusted it to them many years ago. I sense you are no thief… then, you must be with the council?"

"Well… not exactly. But please, will you help me find…" He paused for a moment. "Er— who are you?"

The man glared at him. He reached to his side and grabbed a knife from it's sheath. He swung it quickly, and in a flash Giles' hands were free. The man stood and reached down his hand. "My name," he said, "is Drogan."


End file.
